Down that Road
by Morganeth Taren'drel
Summary: -Tag for Born Under a Bad Sign- Sam and Dean search for their footing on a road that's just got a little rougher.


**AN**: I've been searching for oneshot ideas for a while now, when I started reading a tag to 'Born Under a Bad Sign' and I felt compelled to write something a little different from the standard stories I've been reading about that episode. I'm not sure if I managed to pull it off, but either way I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Down that Road**

Dean smirked. Dude you like, full-on had a girl inside you for, like, a whole week. That's pretty naughty.

The laughter felt good but the sound of Sam joining in was even better. It broke up the tension in the Impala and allowed both Winchesters to breathe; for the first time in more than a week they were back.

For a moment Dean just let himself bask in the sound, glancing across his car to Sam and seeing the smile on his brother's face. There was still darkness there; a haunted light in Sam's hazel eyes. It was to be expected, no one could walk away from possession without some damage even if they hadn't been forced to watch themselves kill a man.

Dean had no doubts that Sam would be able to over come this. Life kept fucking with them; at every turn this '_Fate_' of Sam's kept sneering in their faces but Dean never believed in that fate crap; he wasn't about to start now. He shut out the sound of Sam's voice pleading for him to end it before he hurt someone else. If it was the last thing Dean ever did he was going to save his little brother. His family had sacrificed enough already he wasn't about to loose his baby brother too.

"Hey man, you alright?" Sam's voice broke the silence Dean hadn't realized they'd lapsed into.

He blinked rapidly, refocusing his attention on the road. "I'm supposed to be asking that question," he replied with a crooked smile.

"Yeah well, I'm not the one weaving all over the road," the younger hunter pointed out calmly.

"Am not," Dean retorted straightening the Impala back into his lane.

Sam eyed him with a raised brow before glancing out his window at a passing sign. "How long were you planning on driving?"

-_As long as it takes to get a safe distance away_- he thought darkly. In truth Dean had wanted nothing more than to just crash at Bobby's but with the death of a hunter and his buddies out for blood; instincts told Dean to put distance between them and his brother. "We'll stop in the next town," he answered finally, shifting stiffly in his seat. The pills Jo had given him definitely took the edge of the pain but they were beginning to wear off.

"Want me to drive for a while?" Sam offered turning against the bench seat so he was looking directly at Dean.

The older Winchester glanced briefly away from the empty road. "Nah I'm alright," he replied forcing himself to sit straighter. Dean could see the guilt building in Sammy's eyes again and wished - not for the first time - that the bruising on his face wasn't so obvious. He didn't blame Sam for what happened while he was possessed and he certainly didn't want his little brother blaming himself.

"Dean-" Sam began but Dean immediately held up his hand. He knew where that sentence was going.

"Remember what Dad said about apologizing," Dean returned quickly.

Sam rolled his eyes turning back towards the front of the Impala. "Sign of weakness..." he muttered.

"Especially when you've got nothing to be sorry about," Dean added firmly.

Sam's expression was incredulous. "I think I've got plenty."

"Was there anything you could have done to stop yourself from being possessed?" Dean asked moving past the self incrimination right to the heart of the matter.

"That's not the point," Sam replied with a shake of his head.

"Pretty sure it is," Dean quipped. "If you loose the amulet Bobby gave you, then you'll have something to be sorry about." He knew it couldn't be that easy, nothing in their lives ever was.

Silence settled over the Impala once again, not exactly comfortable but they were working on it. Nothing was going to change what happened or how Sam perceived the events of the last week but they would be okay; of that Dean was certain.

He shifted unconsciously in his seat rolling his neck to relieve the building pressure in the muscles between his shoulders. In the distance Dean could see the faint glow of streetlights and his foot fell harder on the accelerator. All he wanted to do was stretch out on a motel bed and sleep for a week. Dean felt pretty sure they both deserved it, what with the hell they'd gone through. The hunter blinked heavy lids fighting the alluring thoughts of sleep and pulled a hand roughly down his face.

Dean heard Sam audibly sigh in relief when a motel came into sight not that far down the road; the lit vacancy sign a beacon pulling them in. Dean stopped the Impala in front of the office and turned the key in the ignition.

"I'll get the room," Sam volunteered climbing from the vehicle without waiting for Dean's reply.

The older Winchester let his brother go but also got out of the Impala breathing deeply of the damp night air. A chill ran down his spine as he watched Sam disappear inside the office; he just wasn't comfortable without a direct line of sight on his brother. '_Protect Sammy_' John's standing orders echoed in Dean's head for the millionth time as he moved towards the trunk of the Impala and he couldn't help but feel he was failing at it. Dean let out a frustrated breath as he slipped the key into the lock and lifted the lid.

Glancing over the black metal Dean had a clear line of sight on Sam inside the motel office and breathed a sigh of relief despite himself. Dean watched for a moment unwilling to take his eyes off Sam as his brother nodded in reply to what the old man behind the desk said and accepted the key to their room. Dean's shoulder chose that moment to flare up a painful reminder of the bullet Jo had dug out of it. He fumbled quickly for the bottle of pills in his pocket dry swallowing a couple just as Sam was leaving the office.

Dean listened to Sam's none too silent approach as he pulled both their bags from the trunk. "So you don't need to worry about moving the Impala," he explained with the motel key in hand. "We're right over here," he indicated the room next to the office.

"Great," Dean nodded passing Sam's bag over before hefting his own with his right hand. He kept his left arm close to his body trying to keep the shoulder as steady as possible. Dean could feel Sam's eyes watching him closely as the walked to the door.

They hadn't actually talked about the gunshot wound; and if Dean could help it he didn't plan too. Sam wasn't ignorant to what had happened; he'd seen the injury back at Bobby's when the mechanic had redressed the wound. If pressed about it Dean didn't know how much more plain he could make it; Sam wasn't responsible. And he just hoped one day Sammy would be able to accept that.

Stepping inside the dark room, Dean's eyes landed on the first bed and that was all his mind wanted to see. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and lowered himself down with a quiet hiss of pain before letting himself lie back with a sigh of relief. Dean's green eyes fell closed for a moment and he was more than a little tempted to let himself drift of right then and there, fully clothed only half of the bed. But he stopped himself when he felt Sam's presence looming over him.

"What is it?" he asked cracking open on eye to regard his brother.

Sam was staring down at something in the palm of his right hand, his brow furrowed in thought. "How safe can these actually keep us?" he asked finally shifting the amulet so it was held out between his thumb and index finger.

Dean forced himself back to a sitting position fighting to keep a grimace from his face. "If Bobby say's they'll protect us, that's good enough for me."

"No, that's not what I meant," Sam said with a shake of his head, moving to sit on the bed across from Dean.

"Alright," Dean drawled with a shrug, "what then?"

"We carry these around and we can't be possessed," Sam said though they both knew it, so Dean patiently waited to see where his brother was going with this. "But they could be easily taken away from us, or lost like you said."

Dean didn't really remember saying that but knew his mind was fuzzy from the pain meds and lack of sleep. "We've managed to hold onto a lot of stuff over the years," he tried to reassure though he could completely understand Sam's apprehension at the thought of being open to possession again.

"Do you really want to leave it up to that?" Sam asked back surprised. "We've been lucky in a lot of ways."

"Well what are you suggesting?" he asked back, rubbing at his eyes which felt dry and gritty. "It's not like we can permanently attach these to our bodies."

Sam was silent for a moment, hazel eyes going back to the amulet. "Maybe we can," he spoke up.

"Oh?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. "How?" he began unlacing his boots while watching Sam in his peripherals.

"If it's the symbol and not the metal itself that offers the protection..." he trailed off sounding more like he was speaking to himself rather than Dean.

Dean toed off his boots before forcing himself to his feet so he could remove his jeans. "You want to tattoo it on?" he asked a little amused by the idea.

"Yeah," was Sam's serious reply. "Unless you've got a better idea..." he left it open watching Dean intently.

Dean was silent for a second falling back to the bed. "Nope," he replied bluntly. "Sounds like a good idea to me, chick's dig tats," he smirked.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


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